Escape from Mr. Lemoncello's Library (19 page)

“Unfortunately,” said Andrew, “they’ve temporarily erased the book’s call number from the database.”

“So we wouldn’t know what to punch into the hover ladder’s control panel,” grumbled Charles.

“Actually,” said Andrew, “they might’ve shelved it in the Children’s Room. Or maybe the eight hundreds, with Literature. Could be in the four hundreds, too, because it was originally written in Canadian, which is, technically, a foreign language.”

“So you have said, Andrew. Repeatedly. But we’ve already searched those other locations. Several times. It has to be here with the other fiction titles. You just need to fly up and find it.”

“Well,” said Andrew, “I’m kind of afraid of heights.”

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll go up and grab it. But you have to give me some kind of call number to enter into the hover ladder.”

“Lucy Maud Montgomery wrote other Anne books. There’s
Anne of Avonlea.…
”

Charles dashed over to the nearest library table and swiped his fingers across the glass face of its built-in computer pad.

“Here we go.
Anne of Avonlea
by Lucy Maud Montgomery. F-MON.”

“Yes,” said Andrew. “Fiction books are usually put on the shelf in alphabetical order by the author’s last name. Nonfiction titles are classified according to the Dewey decimal system.”

“How long have you known this?”

Andrew’s nose twitched. “Since second grade.”

“So all we ever needed was ‘F-MON’? We could’ve found this book hours ago?”

Andrew gulped.

“You are such a disappointment.” Shaking his head, Charles huffed over to one of the hover ladders. He quickly jabbed “F,” “M,” “O,” and “N” into the keypad. The boot clamps locked into place around his ankles. “You owe me for wasting all this time, Andrew. You owe me big-time. If you let me down once more, I swear I will tell everybody you’re a big blubbering baby. I’ll Twitter it
and
post it on Facebook.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make you glad you picked me for your team, Charles! I promise.”

The hover ladder lifted off the floor and gently glided up to the M section of the fiction wall. Shuttling sideways, it carried Charles over to a shelf displaying all the Anne books.

He grabbed a copy of
Anne of Green Gables
.

As soon as he did, the ladder started its slow descent to the floor.

“What’d you find?” asked Andrew when Charles landed.

“The clue we needed.”

He showed Andrew the card that had been tucked inside the front cover.

“Okay,” said Andrew. “It’s ‘C plus hat’! So the word is ‘chat,’ which, by the way, could also be
‘chat,’
the French word for cat!”

“Well done, Andrew,” said Charles, even though he knew the clue was really “C plus Anne,” equaling “can,” thereby making the puzzle “You
can
walk out the way BLANK BLANK inn in past BLANK.”

The way what did what?
he wondered.
And what does “inn in” mean?

Charles desperately needed to find the three missing pictograms.

Suddenly, Mr. Lemoncello’s voice boomed out of speakers ringing the rotunda.

“Hey, Charles! Hey, Andrew! Let’s Do a Deal!”

Game show music blared. A canned crowd cheered.

Charles turned around and saw shafts of colored light illuminating three envelopes perched on top of the librarian’s round desk. Clarence the security guard marched into the reading room and, folding his arms over his chest, took up a position near the three envelopes.

“We have a green envelope, a blue envelope, and a red envelope,” said Mr. Lemoncello. “In two of those three envelopes are copies of two of the three pictogram clues you still need. In one, there is a Clunker Card. If you pick an envelope with a clue, you get to keep it—and you get to keep going. But once you pick the Clunker Card, you’re done … and you must suffer the consequences.”

Andrew raised his hand.

“Yes, Andrew?”

“What are the consequences?”

“Something bad,” said Mr. Lemoncello. “In fact, something wicked this way will probably come. Do you want to do a deal?”

“Yes!” said Charles.

The canned audience cheered.

“All right, then! Charles, you roll first.”

“Pardon?”

“Swipe your fingers across the nearest desktop computer panel. The dice tumbler app is up and running!”

Again, the prerecorded audience cheered. They sounded like they loved watching dice tumble more than anything in the world.

Charles slid his fingers across a glass pane. The animated dice rolled.

“Oooh!” cried Mr. Lemoncello. “Double sixes. That gives you a twelve.”

“Is that good, sir?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Okay, Andrew—your turn!”

Peckleman tapped the glass. The dice flipped over.

“Another set of doubles!” said Mr. Lemoncello.

“Yeah,” muttered Charles. “Two ones. Snake eyes.”

“Is that bad?” asked Andrew.

“Maybe,” said Mr. Lemoncello. “Maybe not. Okay, guys—which envelope would you like to open?”

Charles thought about it while ticktock music played.

They were given this chance to play Let’s Do a Deal
after they located the
Anne of Green Gables
clue. Coincidence? He didn’t think so.

“We’ll take the green envelope, sir.”

Clarence presented the green envelope to Charles.

“Open it!” said Andrew. “Open it.”

Charles undid the clasp. Pulled out a card.

A loud
ZONK!
rocked the room.

The card was black. With blocky white type.

“Uh-oh,” mumbled Andrew. “What’s it say on that card?”

“ ‘Sorry, kids, you’re out of luck,’ ” read Charles. “ ‘So out of doors you’re all now stuck.’ ”

Clarence picked up the blue and red envelopes and marched back toward the entrance hall.

“What’s that mean?” said Andrew.

“Well,” said Mr. Lemoncello, “Charles rolled a twelve and you rolled a two. What’s twelve plus two?”

“Fourteen,” said Charles eagerly, the way he always did in math when he wanted to remind the teacher that he was the smartest kid in the class.

“Oooh,” said Mr. Lemoncello. “This is not good. In fact, I’d say it’s stinkerrific.”

“Stinkerrific?” said Andrew. “Is that even a word?”

“It is now,” said Mr. Lemoncello. “J.J.? Tell them what they’ve lost.”

An authoritative female voice boomed out of the ceiling speakers:

“Warning: Due to a Clunker Card, all ten Dewey decimal doors will lock in ten minutes, at exactly eight
o’clock. If you are in one of those rooms, kindly leave immediately. The ten doors on the second floor will remain locked for fourteen hours.”

Andrew panicked. “What? Fourteen hours?”

“I told you twelve plus two was bad,” quipped Mr. Lemoncello. “Of course, it could’ve been good. If you had picked one of the other envelopes, you would’ve received a clue and a free fourteen-month subscription to
Library Journal
.”

Charles did some quick math. “Sir? Does this mean we’ll be locked out of the ten Dewey decimal rooms until ten o’clock tomorrow morning?”

“Bingo!” said Mr. Lemoncello. “It sure does!”

“This stinks,” whined Andrew. “We need those stupid rooms to solve your stupid puzzle! Clunker Cards stink. This game stinks. Fourteen-hour penalties stink.”

Charles did his best to block out Andrew’s rant.

He needed to think.

And then it hit him:
Kyle Keeley’s team had to be working on some other solution to the bigger puzzle of how to escape from the library
. Otherwise, Charles and his team would not have been able to find the nine clues they’d already picked up. Surely, if Keeley’s team had been playing the same memory match game, they would’ve found at least one of the pictograms before Charles, Andrew, or Haley did.

They must be working a completely different angle
.

Charles was certain that if he could use this downtime
to learn what Keeley and his team had in their meeting room, and combined it with his picture puzzle, he would emerge from the library victorious.

“Do not despair, Andrew,” Charles said confidently. “We are still going to win.”

“How?”

Charles leaned in and cupped a hand around his mouth so no security cameras could read his lips.

“Remember,” he whispered, “you need to pay me back for wasting a ton of time in finding
Anne of Green Gables
.”

“What? You’re the one who picked the stupid green envelope with the stupid Clunker Card!”

Charles narrowed his eyes and chilled his hushed voice. “So?”

“Um, nothing,” said Andrew nervously. “Just thought I’d, you know, point it out.”

Charles turned his eyes into blue ice.

“So,” whispered Andrew, swallowing hard, “what exactly do you want me to do?”

“Find a way to sneak into Community Meeting Room
B
.”

Andrew wheezed in panic. “That’s impossible.”

“Don’t worry. I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Two words: Sierra Russell.”

“Ever wonder if this could reek any worse?” said Akimi. “Because it couldn’t.”

“Yo, none of us pulled a Clunker Card,” groused Miguel. “That means somebody on Charles’s team did it.”

“Akimi and Miguel are right, Kyle,” said Sierra. “This really isn’t fair.”

“I know,” was all Kyle could say. “But it’s like in Mr. Lemoncello’s Family Frenzy, where one player pulls the Orthodontist card and
everybody
has to move back seven spaces to buy their kids braces.”

Kyle and his teammates were back in Community Meeting Room B. They’d been staring at the clue board, wondering what a wailing blackbird had to do with Willy Wonka and the Ten Commandments—not to mention that long list of books and all the statues—when the voice in
the ceiling made its announcement about the Dewey decimal doors being locked for fourteen hours.

“Well, Mr. Lemoncello better have a
good
reason,” said Akimi.

“Oh, I do,” said Mr. Lemoncello.

His face appeared on one of the meeting room walls, which was really a giant plasma-screen video monitor.

“Team Kyle is not being penalized for Team Charles’s blunder,” he said. “Far from it. In fact, you are being rewarded.”

Akimi arched her eyebrows in disbelief. “Really? How?”

“The other team’s penalty gives you a wrinkle in time.”

“A wrinkle in time?” said Kyle. “Is that a clue?”

“No. It’s a book. And sometimes, Kyle, a book is just a book. But thanks to the Clunker Card, you have the gift of wrinkled time to seek clues
outside
the ten Dewey decimal rooms. Speaking of
Time
, a magazine available in our periodicals section, it’s dinnertime!”

“So the game is basically suspended until ten o’clock tomorrow?” said Kyle.

“Well, Kyle, that’s up to you. You can use this time as a bonus, to think, read, and explore. Or you can run upstairs and play video games all night long. The choice is yours.”

“We want to win
this
game,” said Kyle. His teammates nodded in agreement.

“Wondermous!” said Mr. Lemoncello. “Keep working the puzzle but try to avoid Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler’s files.
They’re all mixed up. And before you turn in this evening, you might want to spend some time curled up with a good book.”

“Um, they just said the book rooms are locked,” said Akimi.

“The nice lady in the ceiling was only talking about the ten Dewey decimal rooms. There is plenty of first-class fiction in the Rotunda Reading Room. Dr. Zinchenko has even selected seven books specifically for our seven remaining contestants. After dinner, you’ll find those books on her desk.”

When he said that, Mr. Lemoncello started winking.

“I think you’ll find the books to be very
enlightening
. Inspirational, even.”

And then he winked some more.

“And now, I must return to my side of the mountain. See you in the morning, children! I have great expectations for you all!”

Mr. Lemoncello’s image disappeared from the wall.

“Okay,” said Akimi, “from the way Mr. Lemoncello was just winking, either somebody kicked a bucket of sand in his face or our recommended reading list is another clue.”